


Fright night

by AngelofDarkness1605



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 13:19:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12582772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelofDarkness1605/pseuds/AngelofDarkness1605
Summary: Mr. Gold and Neal get the scare of their lives on Halloween.





	Fright night

Mr. Gold is both grateful and wary of the darkness as he and his son make their way through the forest outside of town. The pumpkin shaped lanterns they're carrying don't do much to illuminate their path at this time of night.

The dispersed voices in front and behind of them offer some guidance and reassurance. At the same time, he's not happy with the presence of their fellow townspeople at all. After all, there are a lot of people in the forest, most of them masked, and the landlord knows only too well that he's the most loathed man in town.

He'd much rather not be here at all, but the pleas of his eight years old boy swayed him to show up here for the annual Halloween show, right along with just about everyone else in town. Not that the large and dark forest seems all that crowded – quite the opposite.

Clutching his son's hand tightly in his own, Mr. Gold reminds himself that the boy is enjoying himself and that nothing can go wrong. Especially not now that they're in the fairytale themed, child friendly part of the show. There's no need to be afraid.

"This so exciting, papa."

He can't help but nod in agreement with his son when they arrive at the next display. It's a rather large and beautifully illuminated house of a witch, built especially for the occasion. It's surrounded by dressed up actors who interact with the children.

The landlord startles when he recognizes Belle French among them. She's dressed up as a princess of sorts, wearing gorgeous and rather revealing purple dress, and carrying a large book with her. Her hair cascades freely down her partially bare back and shoulders, dark red roses woven into her tresses, and he swallows heavily at the particularly beautiful sight of her.

"Can I go get some candy from Miss French?" Neal asks, belatedly drawing his attention to the chocolate bars which she is handing out.

"Yes, go right ahead."

"Don't you want to go with me?"

"She isn't here for the grown-ups," the landlord replies tensely, forcing himself not to linger on the combination of his favorite treat and the librarian he's half in love with. "You go without me, my boy."

If only this was an actual fairytale and he could transform into a hero of sorts who might be worthy of her affections. If only he weren't so despicable... if only he'd have the courage to try to impress her at least, to bask in her brilliance if only for a minute - or even stand in her general vicinity as she happily gives his boy a generous amount of candy.

Best not to think of that, especially not when Neal returns to his side, beaming. He's got to keep his eyes out for the sign that will lead them back to the parking lot, rather than into the much more grim and scary part of the show. Actors there are dressed up as zombies and murderers, so he's heard, and will pretend to attack people rather than hand out candy to them.

To his discomfort, he doesn't spot any such sign as they continue their way into a quieter and darker part of the forest. Mr. Gold hides his unease to the best of his abilities, which is not very well at all, when they happen upon what appears to be the site of a car crash. There isn't much left of the car, or of the people in it for that matter, having smashed through the windshield in a bloody, almost lifelike mess.

"That's not... that's not  _real_ , is it? Papa?"

"It isn't real, son," he replies, quickly pulling his boy away.

"Always wear a seatbelt," the boy concludes, to his relief not seeming to be overly affected by the deathly display.

That changes however when they subsequently encounter a spot where three people appear to be hanged on a thick tree branch above the path. Their bulging faces are grotesque in the moonlight, the bodies swinging in the autumn wind.

Mr. Gold covers his boy's eyes as he encourages him to walk as quickly as they can. He's filled with hope when the well and the clearing around it turn out to be right in front of them. His cabin is not far away from here; surely, they'll be safely inside very soon.

"Well, well, well, look who we've got here," a voice behind them says without warning.

Reminding himself that they must have encountered one of the actors, Mr. Gold whips himself around to face whoever is approaching them. He stills when he takes in the large man and the hideous mask he wears, before his gaze is drawn to the chainsaw in his hand.

"Leave us alone," the landlord replies with all the strength he can muster, recalling that none of this is real. "We're not interested in games."

"You think this is a  _game,_ old man?! You think I'm fooling around?"

"What do you want?"

He stands as tall as his limited frame allows him. Gently pushing Neal behind him, he feels in his gut that this is no actor at all.

"Don't tell me you don't know what I want," the masked man says, slowly advancing on them.

Now that he talks again, Mr. Gold notices that his voice sounds twisted, unnatural, as if there's something in the mask that deforms the sound coming out of his mouth. It makes it yet more impossible to identify the individual in front of them.

"I don't know what you want until you tell me, do I?"

"You took my house, you stole my  _woman_ , and you don't know what I'm talking about!?"

"I didn't steal any woman," the landlord brings out, increasingly bewildered – and scared.

It may be possible that a disgruntled former tenant is out for his blood, but he has never stolen any woman – if anything, another man stole  _his_ wife, not the other way around. Even if he did once kick this man out of one of his properties, he's got no reason at all to be upset over a woman.

"You won't even admit it? Well, never mind that. I've got you all alone, there's no one who can help you."

"Don't be so certain of that," the landlord growls with a conviction he doesn't actually feel, baring his teeth as he takes his cane more firmly in his hand.

There's probably no way that he can successfully defend himself and his son against this tall and strong stranger who appears to have a destructive personal vendetta against him, but it's not as if he's got another option.

"There's only one thing that's certain, and that's that you and your boy will soon be  _dead_."

The contorted voice is so matter-of-fact, so menacing, that it sends a tremor all throughout Mr. Gold and causes perspiration to break out all over his body. He racks his brain, but he can't think of a single way to get help or protect themselves from this maniac.

"Papa?!"

"This is the point where you  _run_ ," the man yells, excited, as he brings the chainsaw in his hand to life with a mighty pull on the starter rope.

As if he's never acquired his wealth and power, like the coward he deep down still is, Mr. Gold does exactly that. Grabbing his son's hand, they rush away from the madman as quickly as his ever so useless body allows him.

"Papa, come  _on!_ "

Almost immediately, his much quicker son his pulling him forward. When Neal glances back at him, it's as if he's shocked more by his father's weakness than by the man who's revealing it.

Said man isn't in any hurry to catch up with them, seeming to enjoy the chase at least as much as whatever comes next. It's hardly a relief, but it does offer one bit of almost blinding clarity: Mr. Gold doesn't care what happens to him, as long as he can save his son.

His boy calls out for him again, but his voice is almost entirely overwhelmed by the roaring noise of the chainsaw yielded by the man chasing them. The landlord can already all but feel the unforgiving metal that's going to cut them into a thousand little pieces, and when he stumbles over the roots of a tree, he is shaking so badly that he can't get up again.

"Papa!"

"Run, Neal,  _RUN!"_ he screams, telling himself again that he doesn't mind getting slaughtered, just as long as his son makes it out alive.

But instead of rushing to safety, his son comes right back to his side. He's got a tree branch in his hand, brandishing it like some sort of weapon, as if he actually stands a chance against this maniacally chuckling menace.

"Don't you hurt him!" Neal screams, his voice breaking.

"Oh, I  _will_ hurt him... and you too."

Gathering his boy in his arms and cradling him close to his chest, his ankle throbbing in pain as they huddle on the ground, all Mr. Gold can do is await the seemingly inevitable.

"Keith, what the  _hell_ are you doing?!" a feminine voice cries out when he all but feels the chainsaw coming down on him.

"Look who we've got here!" the madman – Keith Nottingham?! - yells at the top of his lungs. "Coming to the rescue of this pathetic old man! Do you still deny that he stole you from me?!"

"You are the only one who is pathetic, Keith! And the only one who tried to 'steal' me, for that matter. For the last time, Mr. Gold and I are not together! How difficult is that for you to comprehend?!"

As if all of this isn't bizarre and surreal enough yet, the landlord can't make sense of this latest notion either. How can someone possibly think that the wonderful librarian and he are... involved, somehow? Never mind that she is _protecting_ him.

Then again, it's not like he has got any time to contemplate this. As he watches on in utter horror, the brute swings the chainsaw at Belle. She ducks away from the weapon, but she can't prevent the sharp metal grazing her arm, cutting right through her dress and precious skin.

The landlord, his son and the librarian scream in unison when Keith slashes at her again as she stumbles. Watching in a blur of tears, Mr. Gold is convinced that he's witnessing the murder of the only woman who he ever loved.

But to his ever growing disbelief, she doesn't go down in a fountain of blood. Instead, she gets up again, clearly hurt but not nearly as much as expected. In fact, she picks up the large book she was carrying, and smashes it against Keith with such force that she knocks him out.

The landlord is jostled back into action when she heads towards them, standing upright but visibly shaken. It seems natural to wrap his arm around her shoulders, the two of them holding each other up before his son goes to support her as well.

"The cabin must be right here," Neal exclaims, looking at the well in the middle of the clearing as if seeing it only now.

"Yes, there's a first aid kit there," the landlord realizes, glancing at the woman at his side.

She nods shortly, prompting father and son to help her towards the safe haven, which is thankfully nearby now that they aren't terrified any longer. All the way there, he keeps glancing over his shoulder, wholly relieved that there's no more sign of Keith.

As soon as he's opened the door of the cabin, he ushers his son and the librarian inside, and firmly locks it behind them. En route to the couch, he switches on all the lights before he settles her down on it as carefully as he can.

While he retrieves the well stocked first aid kit, Neal sits down at her unhurt side, cuddling against her. Mr. Gold initially tenses at the sight of it, afraid that this will make her uncomfortable, if only physically. But to his delight, she immediately wraps his arm around her son, whispering words of encouragement to him despite her own pain.

"Miss French, do you permit me to assist you?" he asks softly, despite the circumstances very much aware of her torn dress and the bare skin underneath.

"Of course. Thank you so much for the offer."

"It's the least I can do," he murmurs, mentally bracing himself for the sight which will greet him once he gently pushes the remains of the sleeve of her dress away.

As he takes in the sight of her skin, he pauses for a few seconds, dumbfounded. Although there's no doubt that her skin is cut and bleeding, the wound is not nearly as bad as expected, given that it just encountered a  _chainsaw_.

"How on earth..."

He looks at her in bewilderment, only more confused when she stares at  _him_ with shock.

"You thought it was real?!"

"What else could it have been?"

"Oh, you poor things. I didn't realize that you weren't aware..."

"It wasn't real?" Neal asks in a small voice, looking up at her.

"Well, Keith was real enough I'm afraid, and I can't rule out that he actually had bad intentions, but that chainsaw was little more than a prop for the show. He shouldn't have had it of course, but he must have taken it regardless. He kept saying that he wanted to have some 'fun', that he wanted to teach you a lesson."

"But  _why_?!" Mr. Gold asks, recalling what the maniac accused him of. "It's true that I evicted him because of his refusal to actually pay rent and because of the numerous complaints I received about him. But that was a  _year_ ago, and..."

He falters, the notion that he has 'stolen' a woman too bizarre to mention, especially when the ever so lovely Belle French is right in front of him.

"Did he mention  _me_?" she asks softly.

"No, he didn't. All he said was that I'd stolen 'his' woman, but..."

"Then he  _did_  mention me, although I was never his to begin with and the idea of 'stealing' anyone like that is completely ridiculous."

"What are you saying?!"

"Keith figured out that I'm  _very_ fond of you when I refused him repeatedly," she says, sounding nervous all of a sudden. "I know that you... that you don't feel the same way. After all, I'm sure you would at least interact with me on your own accord if you did. I'm only telling you this so you will hopefully at least understand why Keith targeted you the way he did."

He falters, by now no longer able to trust himself to successfully distinguish between reality, nightmare and fantasy. Neal looks up at him with wide, very eager eyes, but the landlord shakes his head. This particular conversation will have to wait until he can think somewhat straight again.

"Let me take care of you," he says instead, gesturing at her hurt arm.

"I tried to talk Keith out of it, but he wouldn't listen," she says as he carefully cleans and disinfects the wound before bandaging her arm, his hands trembling more than hers. "I went after him when I realized that he had followed you and got you lost on purpose in the woods. I wish... I'm sorry that I didn't catch up with him sooner."

"There's nothing to be sorry for, Miss French. I'm only grateful that you showed up at all."

"I just hope that you will be all right," she says, looking at his son and himself with such tenderness that the ordeal they just went through already begins to fade.

But no matter how happy it makes the landlord that she's comforting his son like this, no matter how much better he already feels himself, he can't help but wish for her to hold him like this as well. He can't begin to imagine what it might be like to be in her protective embrace, only that he'd never want to let go.

As if sensing his thoughts, his unspoken need, she extends her bandaged arm to him and he can't refuse the implicit invitation. Just like that, he's engulfed in her loving arms, turning the evening from a living nightmare straight into the best dream he's ever had.

Mr. Gold can barely suppress a sob of relief when he buries his face in the crook of her neck and shoulder. Her sweet scent surrounding him, her hand caresses him all the way from the crown of his head to his lower back, over and over again. If he didn't know any better, he'd almost think that she doesn't want to let go of his boy and himself either.

"Yes, I think we will be fine," Neal says at length, still tightly holding on to her as well. "After all, you are our guardian angel."


End file.
